


Working Out

by Moreena



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Anal Sex, First Time, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Old Writing, Oral Sex, Safer Sex, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-05
Updated: 2016-09-05
Packaged: 2018-08-13 03:14:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7960252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moreena/pseuds/Moreena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Trowa can't sleep, needs a bit of a work out to work through his feelings and needs.  But he didn't expect to be interrupted by the object of his affections.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Working Out

**Author's Note:**

> Old work, circa 2010. Cute first time sex.

Trowa had retreated to the seclusion of one of the lower rooms in the house. All five of them were currently encamped in one of the more lavish homes, courtesy of the little blond; Quatre. Just saying, just thinking about the small blond made Trowa’s blood boil and his insides flare with desire. Ever since… Since that fateful day, the blond had always been a constant presence in the brunette’s mind. Awake, he thought of the ways he could tell him what he wanted to do to him, and at night; oh the torture that Trowa endured.

On that fateful trip to San Francisco, they had been cooped together on the ship long enough to grow bold enough around one another, and Quatre had just let it slip from his lips accidentally. The poor boy had blushed a red to rival Heavyarms and stammered, tried to deny it, write it off as something else. But once unlocked, there was a flood. Trowa had shushed him gently with a finger to his lips and had somehow managed to convey that the feelings were mutual. He didn’t know how far they stemmed, but there were there.

And time had only strengthened their bond. They had watched out for one another through out the battles, the memory loss… Together they had overcome obstacles that would have torn apart normal couples. Granted, they weren’t normal… Every night that they had together they spent wrapped around one another. They just slept, grateful for the contact of a warm body to sleep next to, like a small child climbing into bed with their parents to chase away the nightmares. When Trowa was assaulted with flashbacks or terrors, he clung to Quatre and the blond held him, petted him, soothed him until the fear was gone and the taller boy could sleep soundly, safely protected. And on those days that they had to fight, when Quatre had to take lives, the pacifist side of him warred with the side that piloted Sandrock, and he couldn’t sleep, kept awake until the point of exhaustion, Trowa was there to comfort and hold him. Talk to him and tell him that what he was doing was right, and that Quatre didn’t need to hate himself and that he wasn’t alone in the fight that they were fighting.

Those nights that they shared a bed had Trowa cursing his body. He almost always found himself hard, unwilling to take advantage of the blond in his arms, telling himself that it was too soon, he couldn’t take advantage of him like that. His cock never agreed, and when willing the thoughts away wouldn’t work, he would take matters into his own hands… Just like this morning. Trowa had awoken to Quatre sprawled over him, an arm and a leg hanging off the edge of the bed on Trowa’s side, the blond’s crotch pressed ever so firmly against the brunette’s hip. De-tangling himself silently, he’d slipped into a pair of tight shorts and a black work-out tank and that was why he was downstairs in the basement, throwing his entire being into his work out.

He lay back on the bench, arms extended as far as they would go as a minute tremble rushed through them as he held the weight for a few moments before lowering it back down to his chest then back up in a perfectly steady rhythm. Up and down, pausing every five thrusts to hold the bar nice and high. But each thrust of his arms… His mind was distracted. As he thrust, his cock rubbed against the fabric of his shorts and he was fantasizing. His cock was pressing against Quatre’s body, his hands were gripping his arms with that soft steel touch, keeping their bodies flush together. He was kissing the blond angel in his arms, whispering gentle words in his ear, promising him that it would hurt at first, but then it would be oh so wonderful… He begged, pleaded for Quatre to say yes, to let the brunette posses him in every way possible. Quatre acquiesced, telling him that he wanted it, had been waiting for the taller boy to make the first move, ravish him completely. Then time seemed to skip in his fantasy. The tip of his cock was at the beautiful, untouched hole and he was wet, heavy and ready with need. Rubbing the tip against that pliant entrance, and he was pushing in just barely, relishing the tightness that enveloped him, shallowly thrusting back and forth, moving deeper until he was buried deeply inside, loving how Quatre thrashed and his body twitched around his cock. Next he was pulling out and pumping back in, probing deeper inside the tight untouched hole of his partner. His cock was growing, becoming more defined through his shorts. He had to get rid of this sexual tension… He was going to snap if he didn’t do something about it soon. Quatre was too innocent and unconsciously sensual for his own good. But he wouldn’t force the blond into it. That was against every moral fiber in his entire being. Still shoving the bar up and down, caught in his raging thoughts and blinding arousal, he didn’t hear the door slide open, wasn’t aware of another presence until that sweet angelic voice rang out close to him.

“Morning Trowa.”

With a start, he tried to sit up, but the weight bar was still above his head and he almost dropped it onto his own throat. He lowered it, dropping it onto the support bars with a loud crash. He felt more than saw Quatre wince at the amount of noise. So much for his natural grace and quiet nature he thought with venom, ready to kick himself for his momentary lack of control. He stayed back against the bench, calming his breathing, schooling his face, trying with his entire being to shove his arousal away so he could sit up and talk to the blond who shared his bed every night, and was ingrained so tightly within his darkened heart and soul…

“Quatre,” he responded softly, pushing himself up into a sitting position, legs still spread over the bench, making his shorts ride up to expose the pale smooth flesh of his inner thighs, the material stretching tautly over his erect cock.

He didn’t bother to close his legs. Quatre had seen him in less, had felt the press of his always present morning erection, although this was different, on a much larger scale. He grasped his hands, putting them between his knees and looked up, finally taking in the sight that was Quatre. His hair was still tousled, eyes heavy with sleep. And… Trowa’s cock seemed to pulse with need, felt his balls fill with more semen for the smaller boy. Quatre was wearing the button-up that Trowa had worn last night when they’d all taken the chance and gone out to a nice dinner, courtesy of the Winner family. It was miles too big for the blond, but the deep green of it seemed to make him shine, made those gorgeous blue eyes like perfect mirrors of the ocean. Quatre had rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, but they kept falling down, so he would push them back up. The bottom of the shirt hung around his thighs, giving the brunette teasing glimpses of the perfectly almost tanned skin underneath, knowing he had nothing else on but the shirt. Gods did Quatre make him hard when he did innocent things like this.

“I woke up when you left, and I couldn’t get back to sleep,” he responded, melodic voice filling the room, making Trowa’s body weak, the protective nature that seemed to come out when Quatre was around swelling.

“I didn’t mean to wake you. You should get some rest, you’ve been doing quite a lot and I’m sure Heero and Duo can take care of Wu-fei for right now. Let’s put you back to bed,” the brunette responded, staying in his seat, looking expectantly up at his bed partner, daring him to disagree.

“I can’t sleep Trowa. Something has been bothering me… This dream I keep having. It won’t let me sleep,” Quatre whispered, voice dropping at the same time as his head fell to his chest.

Trowa reached out a hand, gently lacing his fingers in one of the blond’s hands, tugging him closer until the scantily clad boy was standing between his legs, head hung as if fighting off shame. He pulled Quatre closer, no longer caring about the cock in his pants, wanting only to comfort. Both arms twined around a perfectly tiny, slim waist, tugging him close enough for Trowa to nuzzle and bury his face against a flat, well muscled stomach.

“Quatre…”

Quatre relished in the touch. It felt so good, warm and perfect. What he needed after the coldness that had left him in the wake of the erotic dream… Of him, with Trowa. He felt color rising to his cheeks, glad that Trowa had his face hidden. He didn’t know how to explain them or describe them… Granted they shared a bed together, but it could be chalked up to camaraderie, or the need to just have something to anchor them to the real world. While Quatre was lost in thought, Trowa took advantage of the opportunity, letting his hands move up the blond’s back, lightly massaging, masking his true intentions as he adjusted his neck to a more comfortable angle, head riding very low on the blond’s body, pressed ever so gently against that secretly hidden almost fully firm bulge.

“Quatre you’re hard,” Trowa remarked, not to embarrass. He was stating fact, like a person would remark about how cold it was outside, or the time. Pure simple fact was all it was.

Quatre blushed even more, trying to find Trowa’s face. He felt embarrassed at being caught, started tugging at those strong slender arms holding him. He had to get away, Trowa knew… He couldn’t bear to see Trowa’s reaction, listen to the words he used when he told the blond that he was disgusting, an insult to soldiers and never wanted to see him again. It was one thing to want to be held by him at night. It was an entirely different thing to get hard for him, want to feel those hands, worn and calloused from piloting mobile suits and doing hard labor for most of his life touching and caressing his body, evoking noises and pleasure.

“Don’t go Quatre… I like it. You smell delicious…” Trowa remarked, face still buried into his stomach, teeth nibbling delicately at the skin and fabric covering it.

He didn’t know how far he wanted it to go, but at the moment, he wanted to touch the blond, hear the sounds he could make under a well-learned touch. He began at the bottom button of the shirt, using his teeth and tongue to slip the button from its place, trying not to let his gaze linger on the other boy’s cock just yet. His hands remained firm on Quatre’s back, preventing him from bolting. Slowly he moved his mouth upward, making each button fall at his command until the shirt was hanging open from right under his pectorals to the bottom, giving Trowa an almost perfect view. Keeping the blond close with one hand, he slid the other around Quatre’s unresisting body and popped the last of the buttons out, letting the shirt hang open.

“You look decadent Quatre… Beautiful.” Trowa whispered as he allowed himself to roll his eyes along every line of his body, trying to memorize it just in case he was wrong and Quatre never wanted to look at him again.

Quatre’s mind was reeling. Yes, he had been naked in front of Trowa before, but never like this… The sensations… Feeling Trowa’s eyes roaming over his body, wanting him. It was so alien, yet it made every fiber of his body sing with need and happiness. He didn’t know what to do. He had never thought past his fantasies. Had never planned on what he would do if Trowa ever came onto him, tried to initiate something past their platonic friendship.

“I don’t know what to do Trowa… I’ve never…” He began.

Trowa silenced him with a gesture of his head, smoothly rising to his feet and scooping up the unresisting blond into his arms in a bridal-style carry. “Don’t think, just let go and feel what I’m doing to you,” Trowa responded as he walked over to a small pile of mats tucked away into a corner: forgotten, and unused. With a gentleness he wasn’t aware he possessed he knelt down and laid the pliant boy in his arms down, kissing his neck, his chest, and his nipples. He wanted to surround himself in Quatre, wrap the blond’s body around him like a warm fuzzy blanket on a cold night. Right now, in this moment all he wanted was the blond. No interruptions, no stopping. Quatre was his for the taking, and if anyone dared to interfere… He wasn’t sure that he would retain enough rational thought process to keep from hurting the offending party.

“I trust you Trowa… Show me everything,” Quatre let out in a soft breath as his back connected with the mats below him. They weren’t as soft as the bed they were currently sharing, but… It was as if they were under some sort of spell. Even the slight distraction of moving from the weight room to the bedroom would spoil it, and they would return to just sharing a bed, sleeping with one another, tangled in arms and legs. That wasn’t what Quatre wanted. He wanted… wanted more than that. Wanted someone to touch him, help him sleep easier at night. This spell that was controlling them… It was wonderful and erotic. They had to see it through.

Trowa knelt over his little blond light, feeling something inside him swell with pride and… And something else as he let his gaze caress the naked blond. Emboldened fingers tickled down warmed skin from throat to navel. His eyes had returned to the blond’s face to watch his reactions. If this was to be their only time together, Trowa would commit every detail to memory to help ease him through the long days and the longer nights. A lone finger slid down past the navel, over a barely protruding hip bone then around the base of a very erect cock before skating up one side, nail teasing the little slit at the top, growing wet with the bit of copious liquid before skirting down the opposite side, hand forming a bowl almost to cup and fondle the perfectly plump sac under said erection. With each touch, Trowa kept his gaze firmly locked onto the boy under him, going by touch alone, hoping that he didn’t seem too experienced with his almost blind touches. He had touched Quatre in so many fantasies… Had seen him unclothed enough to memorize the shape of his body, and had touched himself so many times… He knew just how to touch to evoke sounds and movements. Then something crashed and disrupted his perfect world. His hand fell away and he sat, blushing as he stared at Quatre.

“Did… Did I do something wrong Trowa?” Quatre asked in a soft voice, hoping he hadn’t done anything wrong already. As far as he knew, making noises and writhing under another’s touch was exactly what was supposed to happen, especially if it felt as delicious as Trowa’s touches…

Trowa shook his head with a chuckle and placed a soft hand on the blond’s chest. “You’ve done nothing wrong little one. I merely did not expect this to arise in such a manner. I’m not prepared. Wait here Quatre, I’ll return in just a moment,” he whispered, leaning in to delicately brush his lips against the slightly pouted ones of the other boy before he was up, striding out of the room with a large gait, glad for his long and limber legs. Thankfully, the halls were deserted and he met none of his fellow pilots. He did not feel coherent enough to explain why he was practically running through the house, a hard-on tenting the front of his shorts.

Upon reaching the room he shared with the blond, he made his way to the small black duffel he kept always packed in the event that they would be sent off or attacked. In one of the side pockets he found what he was looking for. Palming the items he spun out of the room, practically running to rejoin the blond.

Quatre hadn’t moved since Trowa’s quick departure. He had been slightly shocked at first, not really understanding the code that Trowa was speaking in. Then realization dawned on him and he had blushed a bit. Then Trowa’s lips had been on his own and he had forgotten how to think. His mind seemed to fog and his body grew heavy with need. Trowa had practically flown out of the room, though Quatre hadn’t allowed the opportunity to admire his taut, perfectly rounded ass as he’d left to go to waste. He had lain on the mats, waiting for him to return, fearful that one of the other pilots would walk in at any moment. Quatre would be mortified, would refuse to be seen in public ever again if that happened. Modesty began to take hold in Trowa’s absence and he tugged at the opened shirt, using the bottom to cover his genitals, just in case.

“Quatre… Why are you hiding yourself from me?” Trowa asked as he slipped back into the room, shutting the door and flicking the lock in a single motion. He wouldn’t let them be interrupted, not this first time.

Quatre felt his cheeks turning a bright red and he allowed the shirt to fall back open, exposing him to the cool air of the room and Trowa’s hungry gaze. “I was afraid someone would walk in… I didn’t want them to see me,” he stated quietly before continuing. “I only… You’re the only one who’s seen me like this.” It was his way of admitting just how truly deep his feelings went for the taller boy. He wouldn’t use the words yet… They were both still young, still caught up in the midst of a war. Perhaps after peace had been attained and the Gundams were no longer needed. Maybe then he could bring himself to say the words to his partner.

Then Trowa was dropping down to his knees beside the blond and he stopped thinking about everything but the closeness of his presence. Curious eyes followed his every move, watching as he set a bottle and two foil packages on the side of Quatre’s head. “Why two condoms?” the blond inquired softly, hoping that Trowa didn’t think he was being ignorant or some other equally embarrassing thing. He had never had sex with anyone. Knew the basics, knew what was going to happen. But he was still very ignorant of the finer details surrounding intercourse.

“Less of a mess, no evidence to embarrass either of us, or show the others that anything has been going on,” Trowa responded smoothly, reaching a hand out to brush a lock of baby fine hair out of Quatre’s face. 

Quatre nodded, surprised at himself for not even thinking about that one. A timid hand moved away from the safety of his body, reaching out to brush along the side of Trowa’s face, cupping his cheek, thumb rubbing and tickling the brunette’s cheekbone. Every fiber of his body seemed to want this boy that was beside him, ready and willing to give. He ached to feel him, touch him back, find one of the ultimate pleasures together. Of course he didn’t have any illusions about the situation. He knew that it was going to hurt, no matter how gentle Trowa tried to be.

“Please Trowa… I don’t care if this is the only time, but I want to remember it, commit the looks on your face to my memory in case it can’t happen again.” Quatre left the rest of his thoughts unspoken, though they hung in the air almost waiting to be said.

“I understand,” Trowa said quietly, gently pressing Quatre’s thighs apart so he could slide between them, taking a deep breath as he looked down. They both knew that what happened right here and right now would affect how they interacted in the future. Perhaps the strongest test of their bond. “I’ll try to be gentle Quatre,” Trowa managed to whisper, leaning down to place an open mouthed kiss on the inside of a milky thigh. He watched with rapt attention as Quatre’s eyes slid shut and his body tensed, hips rocking upwards slightly. Trowa chuckled softly and placed a firm hand on Quatre’s side, pinning him there so he couldn’t rush things. But first, green eyes sought out those gorgeous aqua depths. They were closed, and Trowa used his other hand to caress the side of Quatre’s face to make the blonde look at him. Once he had most of Quatre’s attention, he gave a soft smile.

“As long as you’re alright with it, I don’t want this to be our only time either Quatre…”

He allowed the blonde to mull over that fact and pressed himself over the smaller boy, pushing the shirt off to the sides, letting it flutter open to frame that luscious body below him. “Beautiful,” he breathed out softly, and any normal person wouldn’t have been able to hear the utterance. The blonde flushed and brought his hands up to lightly touch Trowa’s arms, up lightly from the wrists, over the shoulders to his back, skirting softly, nails gently biting the skin. Trowa hissed in pleasure and slithered his body down, making those hands slid up along his neck and into that soft fall of chestnut hair. Slim fingers clamped down around the locks, giving Quatre something to hang onto, to ground himself with.

Quatre was grateful for Trowa giving him something to hold on to. That warm, normally silent mouth was on his shaft, licking and caressing him. Slim fingers fisted in his hand hold, mouth opening in a soft cry. He hadn't imagined that it would feel that good to be sucked. But it was, and god he didn't want it to stop. Trowa's tongue was moving in little licks, like a cat feasting on a bowl of cream. He was focused on the pleasurable sensations around his shaft, didn't pay attention to the slicked finger that probed at his entrance, tickled and caressed his pucker, coaxing it to relax. The oiled finger slowly wormed inside his body, wringing a gasp from Quatre's throat. Trowa forced his mouth deeper, gently pulling and pushing his finger, letting the blonde adjust to it.

“Trowa... Oh god Trowa...”

Quatre was right where Trowa wanted him. Delirious and writhing with pleasure under his touch. Scraping his teeth gently up and down the phallus in his mouth, he carefully eased a second finger into that quivering hole, watching Quatre's face, feeling the fine tremble of his body as he adjusted to the increased girth. He was glad the blonde wasn't in too much pain, at least not yet. It could have been due to his oral talents, but they were just a distraction to what he was really doing.

It didn't hurt, Allah it felt wonderful to him. A slight burn with a bit of pressure was all he felt, and he squirmed, making his ass press back into those questing fingers. His aqua eyes rolled back in his head and he felt Trowa's fingertips rubbing on something inside of him, making him see stars. The grip in Trowa's hair turned painful as Quatre arched his back, toes curling as he came hard, body taut with orgasm; thick ropes of pearly fluid splashing into Trowa's waiting mouth. Quatre gurgled out his praise as Trowa slurped and swallowed every drop, using the sudden orgasm to gentle push a third finger into that greedy little hole, Quatre's body clenching down tight enough to almost crush his fingers. There was a pained cry from above him, and he pulled away to look into his face.

“Breathe Quatre... Breathe nice deep breaths and just relax...” Trowa whispered, sitting himself up so he could caress up and down the blonde's quivering chest with his calloused fingers.

He kept his hand still, waiting and touching as he attempted to relax Quatre. He wasn't going to hurt him intentionally, but there was always some pain, at least the first time. He petted and touched Quatre, keeping that hand still until the blonde's breathing eased and that churning anal grip slackened. Trowa pressed them forward slightly, and Quatre let out a gasp, grabbed at Trowa's upper body as the pads of his fingers rubbed on that little nub of nerves inside of his body. His shaft began to grow and twitch, curling up towards his stomach as Trowa continued to play with his body, arousing him once again.

 

“Trowa.. Please... I can't...”

Quatre was beyond coherent thought, beyond words. He needed Trowa... He had to have everything, or it would never happen. His eyes fluttered open, meeting Trowa's emerald green. His tongue darted out to wet his lips, tongue a pink brightness against the dark red of his lips. Trowa couldn't deny that call, and like a moth to flame, he descended, mouth hot on Quatre's, tugging his shorts down his thighs, leaving them around his knees. He reached out, grabbing the condoms, tearing one open and carefully rolling it around Quatre's shaft, squeezing the tip to release the air from it. He gave it a few loose strokes, chuckling when Quatre batted at his hand, pushing him away. Taking the hint, Trowa took his hands back, rolling the other condom onto his own shaft.

“Just a few more minutes Quatre... Just a bit longer,” he hissed out.

He grabbed the bottle of lube and drizzled the clear liquid onto his covered cock, smoothing it with a few strokes. Anything more than that and he was chancing a premature ejaculation. Certain that he was coated enough, he covered Quatre's slightly smaller frame with his own, settling between the blonde's pale thighs. Starting at the bared hips, he ran his hands down, caressing with a feather light touch, lifting one thigh up and dropping it to his shoulder. Trowa spread the blonde open, shifting onto his knees between his legs. Taking hold of his shaft by the base, he rubbed the tip lightly against that bright pink pucker, preparing Quatre for what was going to actually happen.

“Do it Trowa... Take me before I lose my nerve,” Quatre gasped out, wiggling his hips, trying to take that hardness inside himself.

“Shh Quatre... Hold onto me, bleed me, whatever you have to do if it hurts. If you can't handle it, tell me and I'll stop, alright?” Trowa breathed out, capturing those full lips again, kissing him as if he was a breakable piece of glass. Carefully, he nudged the tip of his cock just barely into that quivering hole. The tightness and pressure was exquisite around him, squeezing him until he thought he'd never be able to pull out. So very slowly, he started to work himself inside, using soft, shallow thrusts to press inside, eyes glued to Quatre's face.

The pressure this time was more... It was harder and fuller than the fingers had been, and he cried out, hands grabbing at Trowa's back, blunt nails biting into that perfect flesh as he was stretched. Trowa was a bit thicker than his fingers had been, and the burning from before was more than earlier... He wanted it to stop, wanted Trowa to pull away and make the pain fade.

“It's almost over Quatre... Just let me get the tip in and the pain will fade, I promise,” Trowa said firmly, nuzzling at Quatre's cheek, lightly as he gave one more gentle thrust, tip of his cock pushing past that restricting ring of muscle. 

He froze, Quatre's face a mixture of pain and pleasure as he struggled to keep his voice down, to bite down past the pain of intrusion. Trowa rested above him, weight on his arms as the trembled with the effort of holding still. All he wanted to do was bury his length inside that heat, thrust and move until they both came. But he held still, let Quatre adjust and bleed his back until the blonde groaned, nodding up at him. It had been quicker than Trowa had hoped for, and he carefully slid the rest of his length inside that velvet tightness, searching out for that spot he'd found so easily. Once he was balls deep, he gave a short thrust, knew he found it when Quatre arched up with a loud cry, grabbing at whatever he could reach. With a small smirk, Trowa began to pull out, thrust back in. They were short, feeling that anal grip choking his cock as he moved. This was perfect, what he'd wanted all along. Even if it ended right here like this, he was happy. He'd been able to touch Quatre; finally touch him and bring him pleasure.

The slow thrusts were wonderful, they didn't hurt, just spread his walls apart and rocked his body even as he clung to the brunette’s body. Every press inside him brought a gasp from his throat, and he was relaxing, letting his body just feel every inch of that thickness. It wasn't enough now that he had adjusted. His legs wound around Trowa's waist, heels pressing into that firm ass, squeezing when Trowa pressed in, conveying his need. Taking it in stride, Trowa began to lengthen his thrusts, grinding their hips together at the top of his strokes. The cries that filled the room were a symphony of eroticism; enough to make anyone masturbate.

“T-touch yourself Quatre... God I want to see you,” Trowa spat out through clenched teeth as he continued to thrust.

With a nod and a mewl, one of Quatre's hands moved to his shaft, hand a blur as it moved up and down, squeezing and releasing. Trowa thrust until the end of him met the end of the blonde, and Quatre jerked, arched off the mats with a cry, shaft twitching in his hand as his load spilled into the tip of the condom. His ass clenched, just as tight as when Trowa had embedded that first finger inside of him. It was too much and he found himself spilling his load, shoving as deep inside as he could get, body jerking and spasming as he came, in almost endless waves.

When the orgasm finally subsided, he fell atop Quatre's body, not quite crushing him just yet. Their breath was ragged, mingling as they tried to calm and return to normal. Quatre's bangs were plastered to his face, matted with sweat and his limbs would barely work as he commanded them to. He managed to run a hand through Trowa's soft brown hair and sighed, all of his breath leaving him in a rush.

“Trowa that was amazing... So powerful...”

Words weren't enough to describe the sensations that he'd felt, were still feeling. But he was so tired, his head was fading in and out. And he was starting to feel that burn even more now. He knew the endorphins were fading fast, which meant he was a little hurt. But he could handle the pain, if it meant he was allowed to do that with Trowa again.

“Let me carry you back to bed Quatre. We'll go back to sleep,” Trowa said gently as he carefully dislodged his shaft from that tightness, watching as Quatre's pucker seemed to clench and shrink before his eyes. He stood, fixing his shorts around his waist, leaving the condom on for now. He'd toss them when they were back in their room, to avoid unnecessary questions from the others. Agile fingers re-buttoned the shirt Quatre wore, and he scooped the blonde into his arms as if he weighed nothing. Quatre adjusted his shirt to cover the fact that he was naked, and held the bottle of lube against his body, hidden in the crook of his arm. The short walk back to their room was undisturbed, and Trowa flicked the lock as the door snicked shut, resting his burden on the bed. He bustled about, cleaning them both up and fixing the covers, crawling in beside his petite partner, holding him tightly. Quatre nestled into Trowa's body heat and the blankets, curling into his cave of warmth. He fell asleep first, the last thought on his mind that sharing a bed with Trowa was going to be so much different from now on, and he didn't mind that thought at all.


End file.
